Jimmy's Nemesis

Dammit, I may have faults, but being wrong ain't one of them.

-- James Riddle Hoffa

Just how wrong he could be, the pugnacious, taciturn boss of the Teamsters Union learned last week when the iron gates of the federal penitentiary at Lewisburg, Pa., swung shut on him. Jimmy Hoffa was in on an eight-year sentence, and could be rapped with an additional five-year term if the courts reject his appeal from a conviction for fraud and conspiracy. Said he: "It's a very unhappy day in my life."

It was a day Jong in coming. Ever since taking over the 1.8 million-member union ten years ago--from Dave Beck, who was imprisoned for larceny--Hoffa, 54, has been the object of almost constant investigations and allegations by the Federal Government. Six times he was brought to trial but only twice convicted. Hoffa took modest refuge in an ancient businessman's gag: he festooned his desk with a bronze plaque inscribed with the dog-Latin motto: Illegitimi Non Carborundum (Don't let the bastards wear you down).

Perverse Sympathy. He never did. In fact, Hoffa's stubborn fight against imprisonment touched a perverse chord of sympathy among his union members. Casting himself in the role of Jean Valjean, Hoffa shouted: "To hell with all our enemies"--and his Teamsters loved it. He played to the hilt the fiction that he was the persecuted Everyman, the scapegoat of the Establishment.

He was no underdog when it came to running his union. Hoffa ruthlessly crushed opposition, demanded total obedience from his officers. His iron-fisted rule led him into questionable associations with gangsters, shady deals with employers and flagrant misuse of union funds. Bobby Kennedy, who as counsel for the Senate rackets committee and later as Attorney General showed that he could be as rough an infighter as Hoffa, called his handling of the union a "conspiracy of evil." So fierce was the enmity between Hoffa and Kennedy that special police guards were assigned to Bobby after Hoffa's imprisonment, as protection against reprisal from Hoffa's partisans.

Yet, in his fashion, Hoffa accomplished a great deal for the Teamsters. He molded the union, once a disparate collection of feuding regional fiefdoms, into the most powerful labor force in the nation. A formidable bargainer, he scrupulously kept to the letter of contracts once they were signed and swiftly stamped out wildcat strikes. By equalizing drivers' wages throughout the country, he eliminated labor costs as a factor in competition and thereby helped stabilize the trucking industry. He opened the union's doors to Negroes and, characteristically, disdained any praise as a civil rights advocate. It was only "bread-and-butter" common sense to encourage Negro members, he explained, because otherwise they would become strikebreakers. He recruited not only truckers for his union but every other worker he could muster, from aircraft workers to hatcheck girls. So large was his union that a nationwide Teamsters' strike could paralyze the U.S. economy, and Hoffa lost no chance to brag about such power.

Paying a man his price--and Hoffa was sure that every man has one--finally led to his downfall. He was given his eight-year sentence in 1964 for tampering with a jury hearing charges that Hoffa had accepted more than $1,000,000 in illegal payments from a Detroit trucking firm--a Taft-Hartley violation that carried a maximum one-year sentence. Later in the same year, a federal jury convicted Hoffa of fraudulently diverting at least $1,000,000 in union funds and gave him the five-year sentence that is still under appeal.

Peanut-Butter Sandwich. Though his term as Teamsters' president runs until 1971, prison authorities have stated flatly that Hoffa will not be permitted to operate the union from the Lewisburg penitentiary--where he made the uncharacteristically delicate gesture of using his raincoat to hide the handcuffs on his wrists. Like any other prisoner, he will be allowed only seven letters a week--all of which will be read by the warden and returned if they contain business matters--and three hours monthly for visits by his family or attorneys working on his appeal.

While he is in prison, Hoffa's $100,000 salary will be reduced to a $48,000 living allowance for his wife, and the union will be headed by his Detroit crony, Frank E. Fitzsimmons, under the title of general vice president. Chubby and smiling, Fitzsimmons will have his hands full trying to keep the Teamsters' regional rivalry from re-emerging. "He's just a peanut-butter sandwich," said one union official. "He'll melt in no time."

Fitzsimmons' first test will come later this month when he heads negotiations with 12,000 trucking firms employing 450,000 workers. The current contract expires March 31, and the Teamsters want a package increase of 5% to 7%, a proposal that may run into stiff opposition from the industry.

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